


head full of doubt/road full of promise (why we broke up)

by theladyscribe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're the only car on the road, everyone else presumably safe at home and not on their way to a military base with their ex-girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	head full of doubt/road full of promise (why we broke up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jadzia_Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia_Bear/gifts).



> So this is what happens when I try to write a story for all three prompts (which were: huddle-for-warmth, a little angst, and hurt/comfort). There's, uh, not a lot of huddling, quite a bit of angst, and just a smidge of h/c.
> 
> Many thanks to nessismore for the [inspirational graphic that helped set the mood even if the story went in a different direction](http://theladyscribe.tumblr.com/post/61562507251/theladyscribe-trope-not-fic-meme-snowed-in), for the cheerleading, for the beta, and for running the exchange in the first place! ♥
> 
> Title is from the Avett Brothers song + the inspirational graphic.

**head full of doubt/road full of promise (why we broke up)**

When Steve gets off the plane in Albany, he finds Darcy waiting for him.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." He’s not supposed to hear the words, but she never did have a good grasp on how keen his senses were. She gives him a grimace that’s probably supposed to be an attempt at a smile and says more loudly, "Captain Rogers."

"Agent Lewis," he answers in the same even tone. "Are you my ride?"

She grunts at him, which is probably all the answer he'll get, since they're not surrounded by coworkers. He pops the trunk and stows his gear while she starts the car, and she barely waits for him to close the passenger door before pulling out of the snow-covered parking lot.

"How are you?" he asks, deciding politeness is the better part of valor.

"Fine."

"You like Albany?" She was transferred here not long after the break-up; Sitwell claims it was because they needed new admin in the capital, but Steve knows she put in the request because of him. He hates that she felt like she couldn't be around him. Hates it, and wishes he could fix it. Maybe he can start mending fences tonight. They've got a four-hour drive ahead of them.

"It's great," she bites out.

"Good. That's… good." He pauses. "Are you gonna be in the City at the holidays? Pepper said they're having a--"

"I need to concentrate on driving, so if you could stop talking that would be great."

The roads are clear, but it's dark out, and snow's just starting to fall again. Steve sighs quietly and says, "Sorry."

Either she doesn't hear it, or she ignores it.

It's going to be a long four hours to Buffalo.

"So," Darcy says after they've been riding in awkward silence for nearly an hour. The snow has picked up, heavy wet flakes that aren't melting when they hit the ground. "How is Kristen?" There's a sharp edge to the way she says the question, a hint of meanness like maybe she knows the answer and is trying to hurt.

"I wouldn't know," Steve answers. "We broke up." It had been mostly amicable, at least on his side, though they don't really talk about anything not work-related now. They are still able to work together, anyway, unlike the ex sitting next to him.

Darcy sniffs. "Imagine that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What'd you do, Steve? Ask her to marry you?"

Steve knows he shouldn't engage, not when Darcy's trying to pick a fight, but he's never been very good at not needling her right back. He's always had a short temper, and she can push his buttons like no other when she wants to. "Learned my lesson with you on that one."

"Fuck you."

She isn't looking at him, but he shrugs anyway. "You're the one who brought it up."

They lapse back into strained silence, no sound except the snow tires on the road. Steve stares out the window, watching the snow come down in bigger and bigger flakes. He rests his head against the glass, breathing fog. He wants to apologize, for sniping back, for driving her away, for ever suggesting they be more than friends. He misses her, but he doesn't know how to tell her that. He's not sure she'd want to hear it anyway.

The road's getting worse, more white than black, and Darcy drops below the speed limit. They're the only car on the road, everyone else presumably safe at home and not on their way to a military base with their ex-girlfriend. The sky has that weird closed-in look to it, and he knows if they were standing outside, the world would be hushed, almost as oppressive as the silence in the car.

The crackle of the radio startles him from his reverie, and he turns to see Darcy fiddling with the dials.

"Let me do that," he says, leaning forward.

She bats his hand away. "I can turn on the radio, Steve. I know how to drive in the snow."

"Just because you can do it one-handed doesn't mean you should," he counters, trying to take her hand and put it back on the steering wheel.

"What the actual fuck, let go of me." She yanks her hand away, and the motion must put her off-balance, because suddenly the car is spinning in a wide arc, back end swinging sharply to the right.

Steve has the breath knocked out of him as his seatbelt catches hard against his chest. They're in an endless spin that probably lasts a matter of seconds before they come to a halt in the ditch on the side of the highway, facing down the hill they just came up. The car is tilted on its side, and Steve has to hold on to the handle above the door to not fall sideways.

He catches his breath, does a mental injury assessment, and turns to look at Darcy, who's leaning against the door and gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.

He reaches over to turn off the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. "Darcy, are you--"

"Goddammit, Steve, I _told_ you to let go of me."

"I was _trying_ to help--"

She whips her head around to look up at him. "I don't need your fucking help! I never have!"

He flinches as if she slapped him. He doesn't know how to respond to that, not without opening up old wounds, and doing _that_ is definitely not going improve their current predicament. She turns away again, hands still gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline.

He's saved from coming up with something to say when Darcy says, "How do we get out of here?" in a plaintive voice laced with the barest edge of panic.

It shakes him out of his own head enough for him to start thinking in emergency response terms again rather than worry about their old fights. She looks pale in the muted light of the moon reflected on the snow, like the initial adrenaline rush of the crash has started to give way to shock.

This, he knows how to handle, and he lets his training take over.

"Darcy," he says with his Captain America voice. "I need you to take a deep breath and assess the situation. Are you bleeding or does anything feel broken?" He's fairly certain he knows the answer, but he wants to hear her confirm it.

He watches her take a shuddering breath before she says, "I hit my head against the window, but I'm not bleeding."

"Okay." He files that away for later, making a note to check her for signs of a concussion. "We're going to work on getting out of the car so we can assess the damage to it now."

It's a measure of how spooked she is that she's not snarking at him for the "traumatized civilian" speak.

"Can you open your door?" She tries it, but it only opens a fraction, not enough space for either of them to be able to get out that way. "Okay. I'm going to try my door now." He waits for her to nod before he turns his attention to the door.

Steve shifts his grip on the handle above it, trying to get enough leverage to push the door open. He gets it part-way before losing his grip and having to let it slam shut again. He huffs and tries again, managing to swing the door open but not able to get it to stay.

"Okay," he says after a third attempt. "Darcy, I can't get the door open without unbuckling my seatbelt. I'm going to do my best not to land on you, but if--"

"Steve," she says insistently.

"What?"

"Use the console."

He blinks at her and looks between them. "Right." Maybe the crash has rattled him more than he realized, too.

Steve braces himself against the console and pushes the door open hard enough that he thinks he might have busted the hinges.

"Shit, it's cold," Darcy says, and he allows himself to crack a small grin.

"You wanna stay here while I check the damage?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay then. Come on."

He climbs out of the car and turns around to help her out. She takes his offered hand without comment, and he spots her when she jumps from the edge of the SUV to the paved shoulder. He reaches back inside to grab his bag, which has flashlights and a first aid kit.

Steve forces Darcy to let him check her for signs of concussion. She squints in the bright light of the flashlight, but otherwise seems okay, so they turn the flashlights on the car. Nothing seems to be leaking, but Steve still isn't sure he wants to test it by turning it back on.

"No," Darcy says when Steve pulls out his phone to call HQ. "You are not calling SHIELD about this."

Steve frowns at her. "Darcy, the car is not going anywhere without a tow truck. It's already freezing and it's just gonna get colder. We can't stay out here all night, and we have service. It would be stupid not to call."

"If you call, they'll send the whole team out to rescue us, because the Albany office is shut down for the night, and my idiot boss doesn't answer his pager when he's off the clock. Do you really want Tony coming to get us out of this ditch?"

Steve hesitates at that, and it's just long enough for Darcy to try to grab the phone out of his hands. They grapple for a little bit, but she sneaks an icy hand under his coat to the ticklish spot on his left side. He drops the phone in his effort to escape, and the smash of the screen on the ground is audible.

"Goddammit, Darcy!"

"Oops," she says, but she doesn't sound terribly sorry. "Good thing I've got Triple-A on speed-dial."

Steve makes a half-hearted attempt to take her phone from her, but she's always been better at keep-away than he was. He picks up his phone, takes one look at the web of cracks, and decides it's a lost cause.

Steve kicks at a clump of snow in frustration while Darcy talks to the person on the other end of the line. He'd like to call SHIELD HQ and ream out whatever moron thought it was a good plan to send her to deliver him to Buffalo. Heads are going to roll as soon as they're back in civilization, that's for goddamn sure.

"Good news and bad news, Steve-o," Darcy announces, and he tries not to react to her old nickname for him. "Good news is there's a truck on its way from Utica. Bad news is he'll only take us as far as Utica. Looks like you're not making it to Buffalo tonight."

"What's the ETA?"

"Twenty minutes."

He nods. "Alright. We should probably get back in the car then."

Darcy doesn't move. He thinks she's going to protest, but there is no way he's letting her sit on the side of the road in sub-freezing temperatures. He braces himself for another round of arguing.

"I'm sorry about your phone," she says softly. "I didn't actually mean to break it."

The apology takes the wind out of his sails. "It's alright. Tony's been telling me to upgrade for a while anyway."

She quirks a smile at that and moves toward the car again. "I think we've got some space blankets tucked in the back seat," she says over her shoulder. "There might also be a box of poptarts back there. It's not exactly gourmet dining, but I could definitely use a snack."

Steve smiles back even though he knows she can't see it. "Poptarts sound swell."

They climb back in the SUV, sitting at odd angles while they munch their poptarts. He's on the driver's side now, door handle digging into the small of his back. Darcy has wedged herself between the passenger seat and the console, her feet propped on the dash. Steve can feel her sneaking glances at him, but every time he turns toward her, she's staring out the window.

The silence is less tense now, nearly companionable, and he can almost pretend that they've gone back in time, when they used to leave town just to go. They'd driven all up and down the East Coast when they were still together, Darcy picking out kitschy motels and always finding the best restaurants along the way.

He tried taking a trip like that with Kristen, once, but she hated long drives and never seemed to find the local joints as much fun as he did. He supposes he and Kristen were doomed from the start, which really only makes him more certain he should have tried harder with Darcy, to work out their disagreements instead of letting them take over the relationship.

If he could go back--but that line of thinking quickly turns to madness, so he shuts it down. He learned a long time ago that it's better to look forward, to push ahead, to not get caught too deep in the past.

Something hits his temple and he turns to see Darcy looking almost fondly at him. "You're thinking too loudly over there. Your face'll get stuck like that if you're not careful."

He rubs a hand across his forehead, and Darcy lets loose a laugh.

"Don't think that's gonna smooth out your worry lines, dude."

He lifts a shoulder and goes for a joke. "Probably not, but it's worth a try."

"Let me know if it works. Might try it myself, get rid of the creeping crow's feet."

Steve snorts. "You do not have crow's feet, Darcy."

"How do you know, you've hardly seen me for the last--" She stops abruptly and switches subjects just as suddenly. "What time is it?"

Steve looks at his watch. "Nine-thirty."

"Feels like midnight."

Steve hums in agreement.

"Can we turn the car on? I'm getting cold."

He weighs the risk of their blowing up versus their freezing to death before he turns the key in the ignition. "We'll run it for a bit, but I don't want to let it go too long."

Darcy nods. "Thanks." She shoves her hands against the vents, sighing happily as heat fills the car.

"This isn't quite as bad as that time Clint and I got caught in the storm outside Denver," he says, mostly to fill the silence. "You remember that?"

"The one where you ended up building an igloo out of the snow drifts?"

"Yeah."

"Natasha was ready to go dig you out herself, but Fury wouldn't even let her leave HQ, let alone the City. I didn't know there were that many expletives, even in Russian."

Steve grins at the memory, much funnier in hindsight than it had been living through it. "We were fine. I think Clint enjoyed it. He said he never had time to play in the snow growing up."

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Of course he did."

Steve turns off the car again, and they fall back into silence, watching the snow skate across the windshield.

"That was the beginning of the end for us, wasn't it?" He's not sure why he says it, and he can see Darcy go still out of the corner of his eye.

"It was scary," she admits after a while. "When Natasha panics about something, you kind of take notice. I don't think either of us slept until you guys called in." She drums her fingers on the console. "Things definitely weren't the same after that."

Steve thinks that's an understatement, but he doesn't point it out. 'After that' had been an epic argument about taking unnecessary risks, about not following protocol, and about not wanting to live with the fear that he wasn't coming back. There had been a lot of yelling on both sides, and ugly words about his need to protect her and her not letting him do his job.

It had also involved some really spectacular apology sex, but he's definitely not bringing that part up.

"We were always good at fighting," he says instead, and she snorts.

"We were _awesome_ at fighting." She gives him a wicked grin that maybe means she's thinking about the way they used to apologize, too. She reaches over and punches lightly at his shoulder. "I think we're still pretty good at it."

He's about to say something stupid like, "We weren't so bad at the rest of it, either," when headlights appear on the road.

"Think that might be our ride," Darcy says, and she turns to open the door. Steve shifts to help, and she moves aside so he can push it up.

The tow truck pulls over, and the driver climbs out of the cab. "I'm guessin' you're the ones who called?"

"That we are," Darcy says, all smiles.

"You folks sit in the cab and warm yourselves up while I get this thing hooked up. We'll have you to Utica in no time."

They thank him and climb into the cab, shaking life back into their cold hands.

"Steve?"

He turns to look at her, trying to ignore the way her thigh is pressed against his and how pretty she looks with the color coming back into her cheeks. He swallows. "Yeah?"

She looks away, and her words come out in a rush. "If I come back to the City for Christmas, d'you think we could get coffee when I'm there?" 

"I… yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Her smile is tentative, but that's all it takes for warmth to bloom in his chest.


End file.
